Regime Change: A Requiem for Progress
by MatthewMalfoy
Summary: Draco and Harry attempt to cope with strong new feelings as all hell breaks loose at the hands of a sadistic bureaucracy. OOTP timeline, extremely dark: sadism and cruelty, love and remorse. Mainly DMxHP, but also others to a lesser extent.
1. Of Muggles and Mushrooms

I own none of these characters and intend this for nothing more than the viewing pleasure of those on this site. Thank you J.K. Rowling for creating such excellent characters.

This story contains dark and sadistic themes in terms of persecution, domination, and mature sexual content. What I plan for this story does not, however, employ this content for simply gratuitous means... although occasionally it will be. I will say I have about 10 chapters planned, and in this particular offering, male/male sex is the least you're going to have to worry about.

This takes place during the 'Order of the Phoenix' timeline. After that, there may be references to objects that show up later but it is no longer cannon.

Without further ado...

CHAPTER 1: OF MUGGLES AND MUSHROOMS

Draco sat alone pondering the news he had just received from his father. The Dark Lord had begun to act. Changes were coming, changes, as Lucius had said in his floo call, Draco would relish. The minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had been placed under the Imperius curse that very morning, effectively making Voldemort Supreme Ministry Overseer. Draco doubted greatly he would enjoy this trip to great hall, he hadn't been himself lately, and he had absolutely no appetite. As he sat down, slightly tardy, he heard an unmistakable, sickly-sweet voice faintly issuing from the staff table.

"Hem, Hem..." coughs Professor Umbridge, almost as if trying to see just how quietly and obnoxiously she can do it, making it clear how amused she is today, in particular, when teachers around her ignore her first attempt.

"Class!", she shrieks condescendingly, standing, addressing both teachers _and_ students in this fashion before returning to her quiet, sickly sweet demeanor. "Hem, Hem. Today, as Hogwarts High Inquisitor, acting under the supreme and final authority of Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, I would like to begin a short talk on one of the darkest and most dangerous creatures of all: the Muggle. As we all know from last weeks lesson in my Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, although muggles have the same basic exterior appearance as witches and wizards, they couldn't be any more different. Unlike the pure-blooded and thus noble-hearted beings they resemble, muggles evolved over the course of millions of years from a different kind of organism: a giant, poisonous, phallic mushroom, according to the brilliant scientist Hambledon Quince. Their similarities to this toxic entity couldnt be more obvious, even though, like any effective parasite, they have learned to disguise themselves as they spew their toxic spores into the earth and into the blood of the wizarding community, leading to the terrible pollution and corruption of both. Muggles have proliferated, increasing their numbers, laying waste to this beautiful planet we, unfortunately, share with them. They have littered our world with polluting, unsightly, disgusting muggle artifacts, muggle factories, muggle power plants. They are like cancer; blight upon the wizarding world – one that as students and faculty of this fine school, we are going to begin to eliminate starting today. This is why I am speaking here now: to inform you of the passage of the new Magical Education Reform..."

"Nonsense!" cries Albus Dumbledore, jumping to his feet and reaching for his wand, realizing he had dozed off and should have put an end to this speech many minutes earlier. "I will not stand for this in my school!" _Dumbledore is fumbling around in his deep-pocketed silk robe for his wand_.

"_Avada Kedavera_!" shrieks Umbridge in an airy squeal of delight, jabbing her already brandished wand, which she had been waving without incantation at the audience for emphasis during her speech, at Dumbledore. Dumbledore is immediately struck dead, passing on the spot. "This is the new era. A new regime is in place!" As she speaks these words an army of death-eaters clad as ordinary ministry officials and aurors burst into the hall, disarming teachers and students frantically reaching for their wands. As Dumbledore falls, they erect protective barriers against the spells that surround Umbridge in a putrid green cloud of smoke. "This institution will no longer put forth into the world inferior quality, filthy, muggled witches and wizards, made weak and idle by muggle values and muggle blood. Thus, I shall continue, speaking loud and clearly for all of you, each section of the new Magical Education Reform Act, issued by the Ministry, which you will find posted on all boards across the Hogwarts campus after this meeting disbands. Each section of this act will contain new Educational Decrees. Future Educational Decrees will be added as seen fit by the Ministry, based on my carefully researched and observed recommendations.

Section 1: Dolores Jane Umbridge will be re-instated immediately as Headmistress of Hogwarts. Special provisions have been made by the Ministry of Magic to ensure complete and utter control in order to efficiently enact the goals Minister Fudge sees as necessary and urgent for the survival of the wizarding world.

I would like to note, also, before reading to all of you Educational Decree Number 1 under Section 1, that even as we speak a special squad of aurors are working now to re-configure the previous headmasters office to recognize me as the rightful ruler of this school. There will be no disobedience this time.

Educational Decree Number 1: The Headmistress office shall be the only point of unmonitored communication from Hogwarts, all other floos and all incoming owls not departing from or arriving directly to the Headmistress office shall be monitored at all times by ministry officials, who will directly alert Inquisitor Umbridge or designated members of her Inquisition Squad to all violations. This is quite similar to my previous Educational Decree, however, additional factors _must_ be considered here.

All wards restricting apparition may be lifted for specific individuals on a case by case basis by the Headmistress or certain officials at the Ministry of Magic when these restrictions concern individuals outside the Hogwarts community. The Dark Lord Voldemort is kindly altering the system of magic concerning these wards as this document is currently being read, in order to make altering privileges possible for Ministry officials and Inquisitor Umbridge.

Educational Decree Number 2: All student owls shall be confiscated, except for those owls belonging to faculty and members of the Inquisition Squad and the noble house of Slytherin. All other owls will become property of the Hogwarts Owlery. Students wishing to re-possess their private owls must obtain written permission from Headmistress and High Inquisitor Umbridge. As she surveys the room, meeting a sea of disgust, hear heart soars at the thought of her power, yet even so she adds: Hem, hem I am a kind woman, you need only comply and do this school proud and I will happily return your filthy birds.

Educational Decree Number 3: All Educational Decrees made previously by Inquisitor Umbridge remain in effect.

Educational Decree Number 4: Headmistress Umbridge is authorized to use all methods of punishment necessary to guarantee strict compliance with all rules and school regulations, and, in the case of enforcing this Educational Reform Act itself, she is sanctioned by the Ministry to use Unforgivable Curses as she sees fit. Notably, any teacher who fails to comply with Inquisitor Umbridges new educational regime will immediately be placed under the Imperius Curse. Should they resist, they will be punished to the point of insanity by the Cruciatus Curse and then quite possibly, put to death."

Headmistress Umbridge, at this point flanked by almost half of Voldemorts Death Eaters, all dressed in official Ministry auror robes, turns towards Assistant Headmistress Minerva McGonagal and shouts "_Imperio_!", at which time multiple death-eater aurors raise their wands towards McGonagal and echo Umbridge, casting the Imperius curse multiple times to guarantee poor Minervas mind is fogged beyond the point of recovery, before, finally, they are silent and Umbridge once again utters a final "_Imperio_," placing McGonagal firmly under her jurisdiction.

"As you all see, we cannot have an assistant headmistress who attempts to defend the old ways, one whom I personally witnessed reach for her wand the moment Dumbledore fell, thus already attempting to undermine me at the very moment I felt I made such an excellent example of the old muggle-loving headmaster." Minerva McGonagals eyes now appear even more lifeless than those students who have seen victims of the Imperius curse remember, probably owing to the fact that she has just been hit with it no less than seven times in a period of four seconds. Tears flow from Harry, Hermione, and Rons eyes, along with most of the Gryffindor table, almost as if in mourning. Indeed, should their wise yet old, brilliant yet frail teacher ever be able to cross back over into her own mind, it still seems as if she has taken flight entirely from her fragile body. "Devastating," Harry manages to choke out, before turning his head down. He never had a family his whole life until Hogwarts, and now its as if he has lost two more parents in the wicked eternal return of his fate as a child.

Panic amidst the crowd of students gathers at the house tables, reaching a fever pitch as many who are not already crying or who have just recovered from doing so after the shock of Dumbledores death begin to burst into tears, especially muggle-born students, including the usually poised Hermione Granger, along with Justin Finch-Fletchley, Kevin Entwhistle, the Creevy brothers, and numerous other muggle-borns. Chaos erupts _en masse_, especially at Hufflepuff, as it contains the largest number of muggle-borns, and thus seems to be the weakest link under the watchful eye of the New Educational Regime. Students begin to have panic attacks, Cho Chang bursting into tears and hyperventilating as she curls up in to the fetal position on the floor. Shouting is heard, including a few brave Gryffindors screaming futile calls of resistance such as "you cant do this to us" and the like. Taking advantage of the chaos, Headmistress Umbridge strolls across the floor, escorted by her new aurors, to where Dumbledore has fallen, taking the Elder-Wand into her possession and casting a voice-enhancing charm, followed by "_Silencio_!", the entire crowd of students find themselves incapable of speech, as if their voice-boxes have ceased to function, their tears now silent salty streams flowing to the floor; fixed there without sound. "I fully intend to pass this wand on to its rightful owner, the Dark Lord shall soon disarm me of it, however, right now, I have been able to silence all of you at once due to its intense power. In the future, this kind of racket will be punished severely, however, for tonight, it will suffice that the entire school shall write a two-foot parchment of lines, each containing the phrase 'I will not disrespect Inquisitor Umbridge. I will be polite and courteous, I will learn not to speak out of turn.' No ink will be necessary. I will provide each student with a blood quill. All Slytherin students are exempt, since I see few tears at their table, and even fewer _mouths moving!_ I _hate_ children: entirely frustrating. 75 points each from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw.

Section 2: All muggle-born mudbloods, stinking, subhuman half-breeds or mixed human/creature students shall report to our new Muggle-Studies professor's office to write their names in the Ministry of Magics Muggle-Registration Registry with a blood quill. Charity Burbage has been dispatched. This registry will be kept on file both in Inquisitor Umbridges office and in multiple branches of the Ministry of Magic. Mudbloods and students with various levels of muggle ancestry will each place the recently re-charmed sorting hat on their filthy little heads, which will reveal to the professor the exact nature of your unfortunate muggle ancestry, sorting each of you according to the following Educational Decrees. Any mudblood that fails to submit him or herself to registration shall be punished with the dementors kiss and returned to the streets of muggle London to experience death, alone or pity without recovery; I dare not fathom which is worse. Do not think you can evade the new laws by withdrawing from school – all muggle-borns not of proper age to use magic outside of school yet, but un-enrolled in magical institutions, are being silenced for the safety of the wizarding community; rounded up by the ministry across all of the country by Ministry controlled dementors that, upon finding them, have been granted permission to promptly bestow upon them a nasty little kiss. So, without further ado, the Decrees for Section Two:

Educational Decree Number 5: All students with two muggle parents shall be classified as mudbloods, and shall turn in their wands to the professor, at which time they shall be broken in half. You will each be issued a new, Ministry standardized, muggled-wand. These wands have been mass-produced by the Ministry of Magic specifically for you, containing a core of doxy droppings, a much safer and less powerful magical material in the hands of mudbloods. This is necessary to ensure the safety and continued welfare of all pure and purer blooded wizards at Hogwarts, as well as the various other magical education institutions across England where this act is being put into effect under the rule of different High Inquisitors appointed by the Ministry of Magic Minister Cornelius Fudge.

Educational Decree Number 6: All mudbloods will be re-sorted into Hufflepuff. All pure-blood Hufflepuffs will be sorted out of Hufflepuff and into Slytherin or Ravenclaw."

A loud thud is heard at the Hufflepuff table as a first year faints, splitting his head open upon the stone floor with a loud crack that shatters the calmness of the silencio, since it is not generated by his body or its language, but rather by contact with an external surface. Several older house members, including prefect Ernie MacMillan, move to lift the injured student and take him to the medical ward, but they are interrupted to the tune of a somewhat louder than earlier

"Hem, hem. Dont concern yourself with him. He is nothing more than a filthy mudblood. No use taking him to Madam Pomfrey: _Avada Kedavera_" incants Umbridge calmly, almost quietly, as the blood ceases its flow and the life drains out of the poor childs body leaving him cold and deceased; exposed to the terrified gazes of everyone in the Great Hall, each of whom have now borne witness to not one, but two deaths before their very eyes in the span of one hour in the great hall.

From somewhere amidst the aurors, _Morsmordre_! is cast, sending the dark mark to hover above the great hall. Some of the Slytherins from Death Eater families, the darker-minded ones sorted into the house not for their cunning but for their cruelty and their willingness to use any means necessary to succeed even at the expense of human life; those who surely will later go on to join the ranks dark witches and wizards the house has notoriously produced in the past, look positively delighted and can barely contain the mixture of adrenaline and glee welling to the surface. Pansy Parkinson seems particularly ecstatic, and she is not even from a Death-Eater family. Her mouth is contorted into what cannot be mistaken for a shriek of joy, save for the fact that no sound is made. She almost seems ravaged, sexually, by the thrill of waiting, on precarious edge, for the final six Educational Decrees.

"Educational Decree Number 7: Mudbloods and half-breeds will, upon confirmation of their ancestry, take the Mudblood Mark on their left arm in the form of a large M for mudblood or H for half-breed. This enables their quick summoning to the Ministry via the enchanted registry signed with a blood quill.

Educational Decree Number 8: Half breeds, meaning all centaurs, half-giants, half-veelas and other magical creature-crossed beasts currently on Hogwarts staff are now terminated; sacked if you will. Rubeus Hagrid and Frienze are terminated without pay immediately.

Educational Decree Number 9: Half-bloods, those with distant muggle ancestors but with parents both witch and wizard, need only register, they must register their wand type and name but are not required to submit their wands to the professor for destruction, nor are they required to take any sort of summoning mark: each of you may merely register your name and wand type with an ordinary ink quill and return to the dorms immediately. Your parents are undoubtedly proud of the fact that, despite prior muggle ancestry, they returned to the preservation of pure wizarding heritage and blood.

Educational Deree Number 10: Mudbloods are, finally:

a) forbidden from attending the following classes: Dark Arts, which will be a feature of the new educational regime, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and all N.E.W.T. level classes.

b) forbidden in all cases from entering the restricted section of the library, even with a note from a faculty member.

c) forbidden to attend extracurricular activities or form or attend student orginizations and meetings.

d) forbidden to participate in quiddich. This is so that they may spend more time mastering even the most basic spells, which, in the hands of witches and wizards of such filthy blood, are always at risk of running amok and causing serious damage.

Educational Decree Number 11: All half-_breed_ students are expelled and ordered by the ministry of magic to never set foot in the wizarding world again, under penalty of the killing curse. They must immediately leave the Hogwarts grounds upon taking the mark.

Section 3: All students of suspected but not verified (meaning on file at the Ministry) pureblood ancestry may report to the professor of muggle-studies and try on the sorting hat. If they are confirmed to be of pure blood, they may opt to be re-sorted, possibly into a different house, by the re-charmed sorting hat after it has verified their lineage. Accordingly:

Educational Decree Number 12: Entirely pureblood wizards; those from ancient families and those with exceptionally pure lineage traced back many generations, even centuries, may apply for private living quarters in the Slytherin dungeons. If said wizard is not Slytherin, they may apply for transfer to Slytherin without consulting with the sorting hat. This is to further nurture those true members of our proper kind and to provide them with the absolute best conditions and materials for an optimal magical education."

...

Harry felt as his insides wretch, burning as though he was on fire. His scar throbbed and stung as tears slid endlessly and quietly down the side of his face on the long walk back to the Gryffindor dormitories. The expected chaos made it both more and less possible for him to arrive at his desired destination expediently. As he made his way through the common room, the sheer state of shock his body had thrown itself into closed down his ability to react to the questions and demands of others flying toward him from all directions.

Malfoy jeered and paraded back to the dorms with the rest of the Slytherin crowd, but something inside him was breaking, something was shattering as the sudden realization of the ideas he had been preaching for years summoned itself to the surface today. He thought of Potter, of the encounters they had been having as of late. He knew there were more important things that should be on his mind, but he thought of flesh. He thought of several nights before, writhing under the dark haired boy now shaking his world to its very core. He thought of muscle and sweat and pleasure the extent of which he had never experienced before. Both boys had greatly matured both emotionally and physically over the last year. He could almost feel the boys agile fingers trailing gently over his shoulder blades, down his back, as their mouths connected, fiery hot passion; mouths connected, tongues slipping against one another, dancing, arousing. He could remember Harry, inside him, breaking him and recreating him again and again.

Harry thought of Draco, wondering whether this new development would destroy the feelings that were, as it appeared to him, becoming stronger and stronger between them, enabling the other boy to understand concepts outside his limited pureblood construct, opening him up to new ideas of the world around him. He thought of McGonagal, of unforgivable curses, of dead students and how everything he loved was sinking quickly into a nightmare state of which he could have never imagine when he thought he had it bad with his Aunt and Uncle at Privet Drive.

Draco, alone in his quarters, surrounded by books, wardrobes, and plush furniture and carpeting in the usual Slytherin colors of green and silver, finally thought of Umbridge, and of what had transpired this evening. He felt guilty and sick. He remembered when he had wished to help whoever was opening the chamber of secrets, of purifying the school of dirty blood. Now, he felt the blood was on his hands, that more blood was to be shed, of how that very blood would likely be the blood of certain friends his only passion as of late, Harry, treasured greatly. He thought of Hermione, whom he still greatly resented, almost with sadness. With fledgling remorse, yet to become true, yet to understand the true gravity of the situation, he grasped at the bedding and began to sob uncontrollably into his pillow. He wanted Harry by his side, yet knew that this moment would not likely see his request granted soon.

Harry, suddenly, head throbbing, scar burning, knew he had to get out of the dormitories even if just for a bit. He had to find Draco before the next day, when the out-of-control new policies would begin to be implemented. He crept slowly out of his bed to his trunk, gently an quietly rifling through his belongings to find the silvery invisibility cloak that had been his fathers, an object that, in his time thus far at Hogwarts, had proved invaluable and helped him in endeavors varying in scope from rescuing the innocent in times of mortal peril to making his way quietly, recently, to his lovers, as he now intended to do. As he crept towards the dungeon, he realized he had left behind the Marauders Map and collided almost head first with Dolores Umbridge and Severus Snape, quite narrowly managing to be quiet as he dove, on tip-toes, to the side.

"I want you to begin working on the potion tonight. I demand you do it; I do not care whether you like working with the still-warm body of that Hufflepuff mudblood. I need this potion now. Students will begin registering with Muggle Studies tomorrow, and I want to begin testing it as soon as possible. I need you to cut him up; I need you to begin discovering how to void his cell matrices of all magic..."

-----

I am planning to update consistently every 5-7 days until all 10 or so chapters are finished.

I have most of 3 chapters finished so far.

I need a proof-reader. If anyone truly enjoys this so far, I would be happy for some help checking the following chapters over.

Reviews are greatly appreciated and I will gladly respond to any questions.


	2. Doxy Dookie and Mudbloods

Again, I own none of these characters. Sorry if the first chapter was a bit confusing... this one will get around to explaining everything better. Please take a moment to review if you enjoy the story... or if you just wanna hate as well.

CHAPTER 2: DOXY DOOKIE AND MUDBLOODS

After Snape and Umbridge had passed by without noticing him... did they notice him, for he was unsure whether Snape failed to sense at the very least the presence of something. He had escaped safely to Draco, held him in his arms; they had given one another the best possible reassurances that could be offered under the present circumstances. Harry still suspected his lover's cowardice; it was present in the way the boy trembled in his arms. Draco still feared abandonment; feared being left alone with no other default than the values he found himself regretting more with each passing day; values, nonetheless, that should he not keep to publicly, would earn his fathers disavowal, possibly once and for all. He did not sleep well, nor did Harry. Harry wondered desperately what Umbridge and Snape had been talking about in the corridor regarding the Hufflepuff she killed in the Great Hall and the potion Snape was ordered to produce. "Void his cell matrices of magic?" she had said. The prospect sounded terribly frightening, but for the life of him, Harry could not possibly figure out what, exactly, she was up to or how such a thing could be done. He awoke, slipped on his cloak, and returned to his room quite disturbed, dark circles under his eyes, to face what would undoubtedly a terrible day.

Draco woke up a bit later, Harry no longer there, and began to pace about his room. The living quarters were rather spacious and quite well proportioned. Even for the dungeon in which it resided, Dracos quarters lacked the usual coldness and austerity that one would associate with such a place. The antechamber was full of lavish French Second Empire style furniture upholstered in the usual Slytherin colors of silver and green, placed, as it was, atop an enormous and intricate oriental rug and set out before a blazing fireplace. The walls were lined with books on various subjects and all manner of objects, including some of the darker relics that Draco had obviously inherited from his father. Old habits do die hard. As he paced back and forth between this common area, although that wouldnt be quite a fair term, since this suite belonged to Draco alone, and his large bedroom, he was trying to devise a plan of action. In his room Draco did have quite a few wardrobes, as he had a penchant not just for fine robes but for all the latest Parisian fashions from the muggle world, as well as numerous Italian shoes.

'Muggles', he thought. He didnt quite know how he really felt about muggles, having so little experience with them while being raised by pureblood parents... pureblood parents. Draco thought of his mother, Narcissa. He knew how much she loved him. It pained him, and he felt trapped between his newfound passion for Harry and his love for her. He realized that despicable things were ahead, but he couldnt let go of her. He knew it would destroy her to be forced to abandon her dearly loved son by her imperious yet cowardly and servile husband Lucius. Draco never had a great fondness for his father, although what little respect he once held for the man had greatly faded over the past five years, and even more since he had secretly been carrying on with Harry. He knew what lie ahead; what he was going to have to do to preserve himself. Illness overcame him, and after vomiting, he removed the silvery blade he usually used in potions, sprawled out on the bathroom floor, and made several deep incisions into his thigh. The rush of warm blood felt strangely comforting, reconnecting him to this strange reality that had been spiraling out of control and feeling more and more virtual, like a more and more hopeless nightmare with each passing minute. He dabbed at the incisions with his fingers, pressing them to his lips to taste the warm, sticky fluid. I am alive, he thought, but I am terribly afraid. Already, he knew what he was going to have to do, and also lose, in the process. He knew the several forms of loneliness that lay ahead, and he feared them.

Pansy Parkinson dropped by later to inform him that the muggle-born registrations were already beginning to take place.

"Draco, dont you want to come and watch? Its absolutely excellent, seeing the pathetic faces of those filthy mudbloods. Your aunt Bellatrix is downstairs snapping wands personally, and shes been asking for you; she always has thought of you as her protege. She has demanded you stop moping about and join her at once. That filthy mudblood Granger is scheduled for later this afternoon. Dont you want to come with me to see it? I thought you hated that dirt-veined bitch: Gryffindor's golden girl. Ha!" shrieked Pansy. "I doubt shell feel so confident with her new wand and re-sorting into Huffleputz. Drakey arent you happy? You do realize, this means the golden trio is no more?"

Concealing his emotions had always been something Draco excelled in, unless those emotions were rage or spite. Aunt Bella had been teaching him occlumency recently as well. His face went cold, assumed its usual regal sneer. "Of course, Pansy. You know I cant wait to see her face. Ill meet you in an hour."

"Perfect, Drakey", she replied, skipping forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Oh, I also came to tell you that once they're done with the mudbloods, we're to resume classes immediately. I believe our first one is double Muggle Studies with the Gryffindors. I never really have enjoyed that class, I know you havent either, but I have a sneaking suspicion all that is about to change! I just met Professor Gamaliel, and it seems she has quite a different teaching approach than Burbage, and Im quite sure it will be far more useful to our kind."

Draco suddenly noticed he was bleeding again and had no desire to share that with Pansy. "Pans... I have to get a couple things done for Umbridge and I'm already behind. We shall meet later to watch Granger's humiliation. Now, if youll excuse me," he said, as he ushered her out of his chambers, which she did not take kindly to, before she could notice what he had done to himself.

After removing the bandages and tending to his wounds once he decided he felt better, Draco slipped into new clothes and was about to don his robes when he received a second knock at the door. "What is it now?," he shouted, irate at being disturbed once more. The wall slid open with a creak and in stepped Headmistress and High Inquisitor Umbridge.

"I will not be spoken to in such tones: '_Crucio__!'" _Umbridges curse was incredibly short lasting: the pain was brief but absolutely, intolerably excruciating, making her intent quite clear. "I do not _want_ to hurt you, Malfoy. I have great respect for you and your family. In fact, I believe we may even share some common ancestors, as there is hardly a pureblood family with which I do not share some relation. I will not, however, tolerate being spoken to in such a way. Insubordination must be punished," she said sweetly, and with a wicked smile. Draco made note to himself that this toad must be kidding herself, for she certainly didn't fool him. Is she even actually a pureblood, he thought to himself.

"I have come here", Umbridge continued "to deliver some excellent news to you. I have appointed you head of the re-formed Inquisitorial Squad, and as such, I believe you would do well to exercise some self-restraint, as it will be your duty to set an example and take part in doling out punishment to the filthy mudbloods and their blood-traitor friends that I am quite sure will attempt to help them defy the new educational regime. I have arranged for you to have private lessons with me after your classes today, during which, I think, I will assess your proficiency with the cruciatus curse and during which we also will work on improving your skills with the curse in order to guarantee maximum efficiency in the punishments youll be administering. I've arranged for a couple mudbloods to be present for you to practice on." At this, Umbridge daintily pivoted and stepped back through the entrance, the wall sliding shut behind her. Draco sunk back down onto his sofa and took a moment to compose himself. He would not have time to lament what he knew now was soon to be the abrupt end of his relationship with Potter. He took a few moments to collect himself, stood up, and finished with his robes before setting out to face whatever lay ahead.

"Doxy dropping! Did you hear her? She wants to put doxy droppings in my wand!" Hermione shrieked. "I'm so angry I could spit."

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger," hissed Umbridge in her most sickening tone of sweet after creeping up the hall from behind them. "A filthy Muggle you are, and filthy doxy droppings in your wand you shall have!" Harry glared at her with the most intense hatred he could muster, but she simply smiled, sweetly and threateningly, back at him. "Mr. Potter, is there anything you wish to say to me?" Harry couldn't take it.

"Yes _Mam_," he almost spat. "You're a filthy, filthy woman. Go ahead, punish me for it, you fucking toad. Youre not going to get away with this. The Order is going to find out what youre doing here, what Voldemort is doing, and when they do you're going to Azkaban."

Umbridge returned this comment with a slightly irritated smile, and her voice rose to an even higher pitch. "I am quite sure there will be no thing of the sorts. Azkaban is under the jurisdiction of the _ministry. _I assure you, the ministry is working on eliminating Dumbledores traitorous followers. I believe we have already rounded up a certain Dedalus Diggle and a Miss Hestia Jones. Not to worry, both have been given the Dementors kiss. They are the ones who now slumber without soul in Azkaban, not I. It would behoove you to behave yourself, lest you meet the same fate. Although you are not muggle-born, I need not remind you I have supreme authority here and am authorized to treat you with impunity. As for now, another 50 points from Gryffindor, and I think I shall arrange detention for Miss Granger instead of you, as I know that punishing your little mudblood friend in your place will teach you to keep your mouth shut far more effectively." At this, Umbridge grabbed Hermione by the hair and yanked her so hard her wand fell from her pocket. Umbridge immediately picked it up. "Well, well, this will simply not do. Especially for such a dangerous mudblood like you. Ive heard about your abilities. You are a dreadful little tart, that you most certainly are. I don't who you stole all that magic of yours from," she continued, examining Hermione's wand. "I know Bellatrix is doing the honors today, but in your case, I do not believe we can wait another minute." Unbridge promptly snapped Hermiones wand in half and proceeded with dragging her by the hair toward Muggle Studies Professor Dawn Gamaliel's office for re-sorting.

After being re-sorted, Hermione had been forced to remain behind in the Muggle Studies classroom to wait for class to begin. She had obviously sustained abuse from the cruel professor, and, no doubt, from Bellatrix, as she was in tears, clutching her new wand, which looked less like a wand than a dowel. Harry arrived at almost the same time as Pansy and Draco, and all took their seats, Harry glancing nervously at Draco, who was refusing to make eye contact: not a good sign. Professor Gamaliel arrived. She was a slightly wispy, relatively tall, and whimsical looking woman: Harry thought she rather reminded him of Professor Trelawney... well, maybe not that whimsical, however, one thing alone stood out above all others – the expression on her face, which could not be mistaken for anything other than cruelty and a desire for domination. The professor beckoned everyone to stand and began to speak in a somewhat singsong voice. After informing the class that she was a kind woman, she immediately contradicted herself as she informed the class that she preferred to call mudbloods 'doxies', no doubt in an attempt to further insult the children and make them feel even more insecure about their new wands as well as what was to become of their wizarding abilities under the new educational regime.

"Come here my little doxies, come show me your new wands made with genuine doxy droppings encased in pine. Nothing to fear, I assure you they are far more compatible with your kind than anything you've used before." She beckoned, almost obscenely, for the muggle-born students to approach her desk. The classroom was not overly large, not nearly the size of, say, the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, which now harbored both DADA classes as well as classes in using the Dark Arts themselves.

Hermione whispered to Harry "I cant believe this, and why is one side of this room filled with teachers desks and the other with those tiny little things." She gestured at what seemed to be elementary school sized desks on the other half of the room.

"Now, children, please take your seats. Doxies on my left, purebloods on my right by the windows please. You will notice I've replaced many of the normal student desks on the right side of the room with large, office-style desks much like my own. I assure you, this is done in the name of education. Pureblood wizards and witches had very little exposure to the muggle world before the arrival of you mudbloods, so they will need much space to work with all the charts and diagrams we will be studying in this class. I have left the old student desks in place on the left. Since you little doxies grew up in the muggle world, I almost feel as though I'm wasting my breath teaching you, since you essentially _are_ muggles and grew up living out what I am going to be teaching you, and yes, I know there aren't enough desks. The rest of you, my dear little doxies, can either stand or go curl up in the corner and sleep. Sounds tempting, doesnt it? I know how lazy you doxies can get unless provoked," she says, opening her mouth and chattering her teeth obscenely, mimicking an angry doxy attempting to strike. She then picked up an unidentified spray bottle from her desk and shook it at one of the Hufflepuffs.

"Now, dear children, we are going to begin this year with a game. You are all probably wondering why I keep calling the mudbloods doxies, and the mudbloods must certainly be asking themselves what, exactly, is a doxy? Luckily, we were able to procure a perfect specimen that was confiscated last year from the Weasley twins. I quickly gave it the killing curse and placed it very much as I found it in a jar of formaldehyde, enchanted formaldehyde, of course, so that it appears as clear as crystal. I want all of you to pass it around and take a good look. Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, please come to the front." As the jar was passed around, the students felt patronized, seeing as they were not first years, they all knew what the revolting black furry biting fairy with multiple pairs of arms and legs was. As Granger approached the desk, Gamaliel raised her wand and instantly transfigured Hermione into a very living version of the creature in the jar and promptly shouted "_Incarcifors__!,"_ imprisoning Hermionie in a small cage. Walking back to her desk, she picked up the spray bottle again and handed it to Draco. Now, Mr. Malfoy, I want you to spray her and see what happens.

Harry jumped to his feet and shouted "No Draco, dont do it!"

"Quiet, Potty, youre ruining my concentration."

Draco promptly sprayed the transfigured Hermione, twice, for good measure, earning applause from Professor Gamaliel. Hermione lay, immobilized, at the bottom of the cage. Harrys heart broke into pieces. So, it seemed, Draco had made his decision. Harry felt all hope leave his body, almost as if in the presence of a Dementor. He realized he had just lost his newly found love. At that moment, he felt all his old principles and morals leave him, possibly forever, to be replaced by the sheer forces of anger and hate. He stood up to raise his wand at the professor, but thought better of it for Hermiones safety. The professor vanished the cage and returned the now paralyzed Hermione to her human form and lifted her, carrying her to the corner and proceeded to drop her there, limp, on the floor.

"That was doxycide, it's poisonous, as you see, it works on mudbloods too," chimed the professor.

Draco cackled. Harry felt his heart split even further beyond repair at that moment. The class continued with similar pointless demonstrations and ad hominem attacks on muggles and muggle-borns, as well as a homework assignment on the evolution of muggles from mushrooms. Hermione did not regain consciousness until the end. She left class clutching Harry, never having felt more humiliated in her entire life.

Professor Snapes class was relatively tame in comparison. Something was wrong with him. He sat, at his desk, seemingly lost in thought. Everyone thought this was quite odd, and even more remarkable was the complete lack of any of his usual harsh criticism and maliciousness. The students, however, hadn't a clue what Snape had been doing the night before, on Umbridges orders.

Snape sat, continually trying to close his mind each time he thought back to the events of the previous evening. Severus had years of experience closing his mind, shutting down his emotions, willing himself not to feel. His life had been one disappointment after another. Some believe a part of us dies with every loss of another, with every unrequited love, with each traumatic event. Try as he might, he couldnt entirely stop the memory of the previous night from flashing before his eyes:

There he stood, in the dungeon, wondering how much of his soul was truly left as he flayed the flesh from the dead Hufflepuffs body, _skinning_ the boy with the blade of a curved knife, _peeling_ back the flesh from his arm, _severing_ tendons and _tearing_ through muscles, flaying it from his back with long strokes of the blade and wet peeling sounds, laying it out on the table, cutting it into neat little squares for testing shortly as the cauldron bubbled in the background. He vanished the massive pool of blood that had collected. Looking at the mangled body, staring down into the childs face, which he could not bring himself to strip of flesh, he began to dwell on the fact that the boy couldnt have been more than eleven years old. Could this boy have lived, loved, found a home here at Hogwarts? Where did he come from? This business ranked among the sickest of the sick things he had done in his quite tumultuous life. Snape felt soiled, reduced to a kind of deed of which only Voldemort would be capable.

'Close your mind he willed to himself.' He had killed in the name of Voldemort, spied, and in the end received as payment the death of the one thing that had ever given him joy in a life filled to the brim with misery, abuse, and dark deeds he now deeply regrets. That one thing, or rather, person, was Lily Evans. He could not, however, think of her now. If he was to remain faithful to the love that enabled him to live; to get up each morning... if he was going to protect the boy she gave her life to save that fateful night, he could not falter, not now. He willed himself not to feel sick, using occlumency to shut down his feelings almost to the point of nonexistence. He could not resist now. It would be too early. His life would be taken once they realized it would be impossible to constrain him using the Imperius curse, and then he would be unable to protect anyone; he would be killed. He was not, however, quite inclined to produce this potion expediently. He was not inclined to develop something Umbridge could cruelly use with what he was sure would be a liberal hand, in order to deprive masses of muggle-borns of their magic, reducing them to muggles. He would, he knew, eventually be forced to produce this potion, and he fought the conflicting impulses inside him: develop the potion quickly, or risk more deaths; risk being condemned to skin more innocent children in the name of Umbridge and Voldemorts sick project. He knew he could get it right on his first try, but he wasnt about to give it to Umbridge until he absolutely had to; not until he faced the prospect of another innocent student laying dead on his table, sacrificed to create this disgusting formula Umbridge had dubbed 'Muggler Potion'.


End file.
